Because I'm Your Wife
by msllamalover
Summary: Molly/Arthur. Molly monologue, as she thinks of all the things she wants to say to Arthur when he gets home, because she's sure that he really has been working himself too hard.


_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: With thanks to Katamabob and SoUsay234 for all their help! Please review, to tell me what you think!_

I'm worried about you, love. You're pushing yourself at work again, like you used to when you thought you had something to prove. Just like Ronnie. You two are so alike, you know? There's always something to prove. I hope he manages to grow out of it, like you did, Arthur. Do you remember those years, the early ones, when we were just married? Right before Bill was born? We had no money, after buying this place, and they kept offering you jobs in better departments? We didn't have anything but each other, and a home that was too big for us, but I told you not to take those other jobs, because you loved working in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. You'd always bring something home with you, and tell me about it in great detail over dinner, after you'd asked about my day.

I listened to everything you told me about your new toys, you know. Like when you brought home that old Muggle bicycle, the rusty one, without a seat or handlebars, and I told you that I would not have something so dirty in my house, not with the baby on the way. You took it out to the shed, but you still told me so excitedly what it needed. And I went into the village the next day, and I found the parts for you, and you looked like I'd given you seven bags of gold, not just some scrappy old seat and handlebars that didn't quite fit properly. I did that for you, because it was what you loved.

Sometimes it felt like you loved that job, those muggles, more than you loved me. But I loved you, Arthur, so it didn't matter. It was still me that you had dinner with every night, and it was for our child that we spent the day together, painting the nursery that soft red colour (because our boy was Gryffindor, through and through, before he was even born), getting completely covered in paint from head to toe, because I'd suggested doing it the muggle way ,with rollers and paintbrushes. It was worth it though, for the way you looked at me like I was the most wonderful woman in the world, and for the way that you made love to me, as though there was nothing you wanted to do more.

You still look at me like that; you never could hide your feelings. Like Ginny, except Ginny's feelings are far more fiery than yours ever were. The kids love you so much, you know. Little Ginny – we really must stop calling her that, one of these days, she's not little anymore – looked up to you, because no one else would tell her about Harry Potter. But you always would. Oh, we laugh now. When Charlie came to visit a few weeks ago, we were talking about you while you were still at work. His Olga had called him the gentlest man she'd ever known, but he told her that that's what he called you: the very gentlest. It makes my heart light, to know that he's found a girl after all these years, one who loves him like I love you.

None of the kids would think any less of you if you were to retire, you know. Oh, I know I'm being selfish, love, but I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you. It's not that I think you're going to have an accident – no, nothing like that. We've lived through two wars now, Arthur, two wars. We can't pretend to be as young as we once were. Sixty-nine, Hermione's father died at sixty-nine, and the old muggle lady from the village. It isn't too old, not for us, but I think it's a fair age for a muggle.

Oh, what am I saying? I'm just being overanxious. Ted and Victoire are getting married soon, and she's a sensitive little flower. Can you imagine if either of us wasn't there to see it? We have to think about these things now. Lucy's the youngest, by the time she gets married, we might both be gone. We could be well into our nineties by then, if we're still here at all. I don't know how it doesn't bother you more. We've lost so much, and I don't even want to think about what might be lost by then. My brothers, and yours, our friends, Our Fre – no, I suppose it's best not to think about who we've lost, not when you look at what we've gained. And we gained it together, don't you think that's the most special thing? Even all these years later, I wish you'd speak to me about your feelings. I know everything else about you – I can even tell what you're thinking sometimes. I love that, the bond that we share after so many years. When you do tell me what you feel, what you _really_ feel, I'm reminded of why I fell in love with you. You know all those things about me, too, and my emotions are always right at the surface, and I haven't always been easy, I know that, but you still love me. I feel like I should thank you, but I tried that once and you didn't like it. You told me that you thought you had to work to deserve me, and I laughed. We're both as bad as each other. You just trundle on, going to work every day, and every evening you come home and kiss me, just like you've done for years. I make you dinner, and you talk about your day. And when the day's all done, we curl up in bed, and talk some more until we fall asleep.

Do you want to know the truth? I wish you _would_ stop going to work at the Ministry. You're too old for the raids, Arthur, and you know it too. You're just being stubborn. Why now, of all the times, do you have to start being stubborn? Most of the decisions in our lives, the important ones, we speak about. When it was wartime, we discussed joining the Order, weighing the risks to our family against the need of our cause. This feels like something important. But I'm not going to discuss it with you because I want you to change your mind. I know this is yours, your work and your passion, and I don't want to take that away from you. I just want to let you know that I'm worried. We've got the children to be blunt with us, but we have each other to be understanding. That's the way I've always thought about it, and it's not going to change now.

I know you love me more than your work, so maybe you'll listen to me. You've become stubborn in your old age, but I'm not going to become selfish. That's something I can say proudly of the two of us – we were never selfish, not once. But I can't help but get that way now. You know it's all about you though, don't you, Arthur? That it always has been? That I could never have raised our children without you? That night, when that snake attacked you, I'd never been more scared in all my life. Never, do you hear me? I wasn't ever scared for ... for Freddie. I thought I'd been a good enough mother, that we'd taught him well enough. I know you tell me it wasn't our mistake, that there was no one to blame; but your eyes were redder than mine. You didn't go to work for weeks, and that told us all we needed to know.

All those nights when Bill was young, and Charlie, and when the others were born, when you didn't come home, when the raids kept you away from me, I couldn't sleep for fear. You kept going, because that's what you do, you keep going. You're always trying to do something. I think you're the reason for Percy coming back, though I won't say it to anyone, for fear of embarrassing him. You always went into work, and even if the two of you didn't talk, I feel like it helped seeing you there, close by, long after the rest of us had given up. He came home to us, eventually, and it was his father's embrace he looked for. We're both getting older now, and I know this is something we'll all have to think about. But not yet, I want to push the day back and back, further into the future ... The truth is, Arthur, I don't know what this family would do without you.

People always come to me, after Bellatrix, because they think that I'm the strong one, the one who they should look up to, but they're wrong. You're the backbone of this family, and you always have been. I shouted the spell, and I'd do it again a thousand times over to keep her from our children. But I need _you_ to be strong. When it felt like I couldn't carry on, you made me. I don't even want to think about where we'd all be without you. You're going to blush like an over-ripe tomato when I tell you, right to the tips of your ears, and down your neck – because some things never change, and I'm eternally grateful for that – but I am going to tell you. I think that maybe you don't hear it enough. Sometimes, we think you don't need to, and so we forget ourselves. It's you, Arthur, and it always has been. If you want to continue, you know I'll be right behind you. I'll support you, just like I always have, just like I know you'd support me. I'm your wife, after all.

You'll be home soon, I can see the clock's about to change, and I'll have this conversation with you then. I'll just make you some tea for when you get in – I know what you like: a big, hot cup of tea, to make you feel better.


End file.
